


Bull's Eye

by A_Death_and_A_Maiden



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst, Dubious Consent, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Fluff, M/M, Omega Verse, Russian Mafia, Yaoi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:15:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28193055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Death_and_A_Maiden/pseuds/A_Death_and_A_Maiden
Summary: Yuri Plisetsky is an Omega that is unmated, unbound and working for a mafia family in Russia. That is certainly a problem in an Alpha-dominated world. Victor Nikiforov, the head of the mafia family, orders Yuri to find a bonding partner soon or else...Enters a mysterious tall, dark and handsome man who comes to aid the Nikiforov gang in an operation. But the first thing Yuri asks from him in not a bounding mark.I read my own fan fiction and I admire the author’s skills. Is this very wrong? Please tell me in the comments. Mainly Otabek x Yuri. Take a shot every time you read “fuck”.For the Rape/Non-Con, it's not in this chapter. I don't intend to make it graphic or violent.
Relationships: Otabek Altin/Yuri Plisetsky, Victor Nikiforov/Yuri Plisetsky
Comments: 17
Kudos: 49





	1. Chapter One

Being a mafia lackey was bad on it’s own, but being an _Omega_ mafia lackey was double bad. Yuri Plisetsky was an 18-year old unmated and unbound Omega, which was triple bad. An unmated and unbound Omega would disbalance the power withing a gang where it was unavoidable for several Alphas to mingle, especially in a safe-house like theirs. Territorial issues were oftentimes curbed for the common good but when an unmated and unbound Omega went into heat...well. The Boss Victor Nikiforov couldn’t be clearer about this matter- Yuri Plisetsky had to be bound to an Alpha of his own choice or Nikiforov would choose one himself. Victor couldn’t be a trusted expert in the field because had a strange taste for his Omegas, nearly _exotic_ taste, his last catch was a Japanese man with a name similar to Yuri’s. Considering the well-known fact that Victor’s bonds lasted for an indiscriminately short amount of time, this match seemed to be short-lived, though it did average longer than usual. Apparently, Victor Nikiforov just liked sushi very much, though in fact Yuuri’s scent was nowhere near raw fish, he smelled of a mixture of cinnamon, blackberries and green apples. 

Yuri was preparing to go to sleep but he was still wearing his day clothes- a pair of skinny black jeans with open knees and a thrifted white T-shirt with a print of a roaring tiger’s head, so very much Gucci it was even painful. Their safe-house was equipped with a considerable amount of modern conveniences and he had a separate room to sleep in and take his heats until he found an Alpha to move in with but he had forgotten to take a glass of water with himself tonight before going to bed, so he decided to quickly go to the kitchen. He went along a long corridor with several rooms with tightly shut doors on both sides, then he crossed a big common room where their IT people worked 24/7 in the gloomy blue light of their multiple screens and then paused by the landing. Two Alphas were blocking his way and speaking in hushed voices. The gang was planning a big hit next week and they were gathering forces, some new people have already been put into temporary residence quarters somewhere in the house and some were going to arrive late that night (because of crazy flight schedules and the fact that not everybody qualified for Nikiforov’s private jet fleet). The two Alphas stopped talking upon noticing the blond Omega. Omegas usually ran errands and...well...fucked. Except _this_ one. Bound Omegas were somewhat more respected in the pack as another Alpha’s property, so here goes four times bad. Yuri felt their stares on his back as he started his descent on the staircase, they didn’t say anything but their silent growl was a clear sign on their emotions; the only reason the Alphas tolerated Yuri was the common knowledge of Nikiforov’s decision and the possibility to claim this Omega themselves. And, as good or bad luck would have it, Yuri Plisetsky was very _fucking much_ claimable. 

Yuri was many things but not stupid. Stupid people didn’t survive long doing what Mafia did, lifespan was short. Yuri had a hearing of a bat, which helped him tremendously in his ballet lessons as a child and a lackey for Mafia errands now. The two Alphas were discussing something related to a new recruit. Their next hit needed a sniper. Actually, a sniper was key to the whole operation. There was a new recruit, loaned humbly by a related mafia family from Almaty, for this very particular purpose. He obviously already rustled some feathers the wrong way, based on how badly the two Alphas stank. 

There was a tall broad-shouldered man in a black motorcycle jacket standing casually leaned against the table in the middle of the kitchen. Yuri couldn’t see his face as the man was standing his back to the entrance. Not a very wise idea, but the safety of their guests was of paramount honour of the gang, so _maybe_ sometimes it was a-okay to stray away from the manual. That was a very long table with many high bar chairs with backrests because often many people had to take meals at the same time. Yuri also took shifts with other Omegas on cleaning, buying groceries and cooking. He did _dare_ say he got by easier as an unbound Omega somewhat thanks to how good his cooking was. He picked up this skill when he had to look after his ailing grandfather, two years may God rest his soul now, and he learned many secret Plisetsky family recipes. The kitchen still smelled like his piroshki. 

“So you are that sniper everybody’s talking about?”- casually asked Yuri, picking a tall glass from the wash-up drying rack and pouring tap water into it. He knew there was bottled water in the fridge but somehow he couldn’t be bothered. He heard the man inhale loudly and turn around. Yuri closed the tap, turned around, lifted the glass to his lips, looked up and...froze.

The man was...gorgeous. Simply strikingly absolutely the most gorgeous man Yuri had ever seen. Tanned smooth skin, jet dark hair, brown eyes, strong jawline, definitely a good dose of Asian blood, bulging muscles standing out from under a tight _too tight_ T-shirt under the unzipped jacket. He was wearing black leather pants belted with a big buckle and a pair of boots fit for bike riding. And he was an Alpha, as his scent informed Yuri by attacking his nostrils. He was standing dangerously too close at Yuri’s hand reach and Yuri felt a sudden urge to reach out and verify if this gorgeous man was real. The man smelled of sweet tobacco, strong musk and... _fuck_ was that bergamot? He was eyeing Yuri with a clear interest. Yuri somewhat got used to that, him clearly being an Omega that smelled, as he had been informed, of Bulgarian rose, zephyrs and plums. 

Yuri wanted to leave the kitchen but he couldn’t. It wasn’t that this Alpha commanded him, it felt more like this Alpha was _asking_ him to stay. The man was eyeing Yuri intently. “I like what I see,”- Yuri could read in his eyes. That, too, was something he got somewhat used to. Tall, lean, curvaceous, long-haired blue-eyed blond looked like an Old Masters painting coming alive. After a few bad experiences, Yuri would leave the house only wearing an over-sized hoodie with a hood up to hide his face. _Annoying as fuck_. Yuri put his glass on the table and tried to place his hip on the chair to grab a seat. Yuri was tall, but the tall chairs were uncomfortably taller to his height and as Yuri was trying to crawl on it, the chair dangerously swiveled and Yuri swayed turned off-balance. He bit his lip to stop a curse but then a strong hand got a grip of the chair’s backrest and suspended it. The man held the chair firmly for Yuri to curl up safely. 

“Urgh...Thanks,”- said Yuri. He didn’t know what to say really but luckily the other two Alphas re-entered the kitchen. They eyed Yuri silently, quietly hoping for him to get the hint and get the fuck out. He didn’t, so the two Alphas started some scented pushes. They were proceeding gently so far, Yuri understood that, probably because of the new people in the house. It was bad for business to show inside problems, this gang did their dirty laundry in private. Nudges continued in silence and Yuri was getting more and more uncomfortable when suddenly a warm feeling of comfort wrapped around him like a thick blanket. The new Alpha cocked his head to the side and his brown eyes lit up. He, for some reason, decided to be protective of Yuri. If there was a reason why unmated and unbound Omega was bad news, this was it- a pack of Alphas was starting getting aggressive against their own members. Victor was right about getting Yuri an Alpha. Luckily, the two local Alphas decided to step back and the air around Yuri cleared, though the warm blanket feeling continued to hang around him. The two Alphas were understandably reluctant to start talking shop in Yuri’s presence and uncomfortable silence ensued. _Oh what the fuck_ ,- thought Yuri.

“So, you are that sniper everyone’s talking about?”- he repeated his question but avoided looking the man in the eye. There was something… _wrong_...with the man but Yuri couldn’t put his finger on it. He took a good sip from his glass and ran his tongue on his chapped lips. He must remember to put some lip balm before sleep- _mental note from Yuri Plisetsky to himself, he must buy some lip balm as he was running out of his current stock because he had planning skills of a carrot._ The stranger made the situation even more uncomfortable because he didn’t reply to anything Yuri had said. Yuri inwardly sighed. He hated this Alpha bullshit so much but _the fuck_ he was gonna let them get him. 

“What’s your name?”- asked Yuri as casually as he could,- “or is that classified information, too?”  
“Otabek,”- the man finally broken silence. But he continued staring at Yuri silently, not asking for his name or saying anything else. The other two Alphas continued eyeing them and honestly the whole situation verged on being borderline stupid but they didn’t make an attempt to interfere, Yuri understood, mainly because the sweet tobacco from Otabek turned into sharp tobacco. 

“Well, _Otabek_ ,”- said Yuri, taking a slow drink and finally bracing himself to look up into the other man’s face,- “how about we test your sniper skills at the shooting range? There’s a pink plush octopus that I want but the score has to be very high to win it.” The dark thick eyebrows on Otabek’s face shoot up as well as the corners of his lips and an amused smile appeared on his face, probably as a reaction to shock. If he was a mafia sniper, a fact still remaining to be confirmed, a pink plush octopus was probably his first target of this kind. The blanket off scent around Yuri seemed to tighten and thicken as Otabek, _actually_ , rocked with suppressed mirth. But it was enough for the two local Alphas to snap.

“A pink octopus, Yuri? Really?”- said one of them, giving up his name to Otabek.   
“Oh, _excuse me_ , is there a rule against plush octopuses in this house that I don’t know of?”- Yuri gasped in mock shock. He was stretching it and he knew it, these Alphas would get back at him for such publicly displayed disrespect. In fact, if they commanded him to drop flat on the floor and hit the floor hard, he would. He guessed that this was probably what was gonna happen as the two local Alphas started sending silent growling sounds and the protective blanket feeling around him wavered as if a pebble had been thrown into water and sent ripples.   
“Sure,”- said Otabek, finally cracking an actual emotion of a coarse _and very sexy_ laugh, -”I’ll get you your octopus.” Yuri couldn’t believe it, that the man just played along, he didn’t seem to be the type to joke _or fuck_ around. Yuri should have known better. He managed to squeeze a small smile while his blue eyes locked on the small fires in Otabek’s eyes. Now _was a very good time_ to go. Yuri squirmed on the chair signaling he was gonna get off it, one long leg reaching downwards to step on. The blanket around him somewhat loosened to allow some maneuvering but didn’t lift completely. The chair swiveled dangerously again and there again was a strong hand on the backrest to support it. This time, as Yuri was getting off, Otabek’s hand was placed so that Yuri had to absolutely brush against it. There is no recorded worldwide case of anyone being killed by a scent of bergamot but Yuri was a good case to qualify because he nearly died just because of that.   
“Somebody could pickup some good manners,”- Yuri dropped as he was passing by the two Alphas. They just glared but Yuri knew that he was now probably living on borrowed time. 

He was about to start changing into his sleepwear when there was a knock on his door. Yuri perked up. If Anton wanted to _like kill him_ he wouldn’t bother with such polite formalities. Was this...that other Alpha? Yuri’s heart lurched into his throat. But Yuri didn’t pick up Otabek’s scent from across the door. In fact, it smelled like nothing but there was a definite movement on the other side. A Beta. Yuri cracked the door open. 

_He could not believe the fuck of it._

Otabek _fucking mafia sniper with a killer scent_ didn’t get the joke right and so he _for the actual fuck of it_ actually dragged Yuri out to the amusement park _for the fucking pink plush octopus_. When the Beta told him to get down immediately, Yuri had just a few minutes to quickly pull his hair into a bun, run some lip balm against his chapped lips, put on a hoodie, throw on a leather jacket with animal print on the collar and cuffs and lace up a pair of white sneakers. He pulled the hood up as he was descending the stairs. Now he was leading Otabek and guiding him to the shooting range where _thank the fuck Lord Christ Almighty, Mary and Joseph flipped backwards_ he did actually see a pink plush octopus the other night he had been hanging out here. He was obviously sending out mixed information because Otabek grabbed him on the sleeve and pulled to a stop.   
“What?”- asked Otabek. He was surely a man of few words but then again some of the most powerful speeches in the history were short, the Gettysburg Address is only ten sentences long. They were standing in the crowd and people started pushing against them to go past, so Otabek put his hand on Yuri’s shoulder and pushed him back to a wall of a house. For once, Yuri was thankful to his hoodie that now hung low hiding his face because his cheeks were burning. The blanket of sweet tobacco, strong musk and bloody murderous bergamot was clinging on his body like a band-aid and assaulting his every pore.  
“What,”- snarled Otabek angrily, -”are you fucking crying about now?”   
“I’m sorry,”- Yuri searched his pockets for a tissue or something but of course he didn’t find anything of the kind, so he just fisted some of his hoodie sleeve that was poking from under the leather jacket and used it to dry his face,-”you came to help us and I just dragged you out when you could be resting or sleeping. I would be also resting or sleeping instead of putting my last food money on this silly thing.”  
“Is that what you are crying about?”- there was a clear surprise in Otabek’s voice. Yuri nodded. Otabek sighed and pulled Yuri close to his chest where he wrapped his arms around Yuri’s shoulders and held him firmly in a hug. Yuri gagged. This was…. _fucking too close_. He put his palms on Otabek’s chest and pushed him away. This was...so powerful _and Yuri so very much wanted to drown in it._ OK, if he wasn’t sending this Alpha mixed signals, snow was black.   
“You really want that damn octopus?”- asked Otabek. Yuri gave a small nod. By now _he really wanted that octopus really badly._  
“Let’s go get it.”

They resumed walking and soon they were standing in front of the shooting range with all sorts of prizes, a hideous pink plush octopus _with nine legs_ was hanging as a bait for amusement park’s visitors. It had very good draw at kids under the age of seven and, for some reason, Yuri Plisetsky. Yuri pulled a few notes from the back pocket of his jeans but Otabek was faster and put his own money on the money plate. He picked up a dedicated shotgun, fingered it professionally, aimed and killed all the required targets to score the prize so easily as if he did it every day for a job. The person responsible for this attraction nodded in approval and handed over the pink plush octopus without a deliberation. _As if one could deliberate before Otabek._ They were sometime walkaway when Otabek made a comment on the physical inaccuracies of a being that was by nature supposed to have only eight legs but this particular specimen sported nine. 

“That one is not a leg,”- Yuri didn’t feel himself saying it when he said it. His cheeks went on immediate fire and he thanked the Lord for his hood again. It was pretty dark now and the amusement park was illuminated by artificial lights and attractions had their own lighting, but somehow Yuri felt that if he were to show his face to the world, that would somehow trigger the sunrise. Otabek growled in genuine amusement and Yuri felt the warm bergamot washing his face. His belly gurgled and Otabek caught on that.  
“You hungry?”- asked the now confirmed sniper. Yuri wasn’t ravenous but the crisp night air and stress did work up some appetite, it wasn’t helped by all the wafting sounds of street food in the amusement park.   
“Yeah, sort of.”  
“What do you eat?”  
“Anything with meat,”- Yuri’s honest answer was quick. Otabek nodded in approval. A shiver went down Yuri’s spine at the thought of how this strong jawline digs into flesh and crashes bones _and marks his thigh what the fuck get a grip of yourself Plisetsky!_ They stopped by a small diner with only five tables. They were full but Otabek anyway went inside and Yuri followed, _as if he could not follow_. There was one table by the window that was occupied by a group of four and they hadn’t placed their order yet _but for some reason the four Betas suddenly felt a strong desire to get up and leave._ Otabek and Yuri sat down. It was impossible to keep the hood up any longer. Well, it was possible, nobody would mind or care, but it would be uncomfortable to consume any food or drink, so Yuri just pulled it down. His hair was still in a bun and therefore it had managed to keep somewhat neat under the hood but now his long delicate neck was exposed to any interested scrutiny. _His long unmarked neck._ He couldn’t help but noticed how suddenly and immensely pleased Otabek became at the sight of his unmarked neck. A waiter took their food orders and soon came back with them because the place wasn’t busy and it was nearing their closure time anyway. Burgers, fries, cola for Yuri and beer for Otabek. They dig into their food with a healthy dose of appetite. Yuri had to summon his will _not to look_ at the way Otabek’s jaw moved. 

“I still owe you money for the plushie,”- said Yuri as he finished licking his greasy fingers. This was an absolutely awful and an absolutely rude thing to do and especially in public but _for some reason_ it seemed to entertain Otabek very much. Yuri grabbed his Coke.  
“No worries. Consider it a date.”  
Yuri nearly choked on his drink. Otabek just grinned and took a swig of his beer.   
“No, _fuck_ , I can’t...”- stammered Yuri but Otabek just grinned more. He was now very much looking like a big ferocious animal.   
“Why not? You are unbound,”- asked Otabek. It was a totally legit question. Yuri was unmated, unbound and because of that troublesome _as fuck._  
“I just prefer it this way,”- Yuri dug his heels into the floor under the table as if it could somehow support his argument. He knew his preference was hanging on a thin thread because Victor’s order couldn’t be clearer but _this fucking situation was so intimidating that it was simply impossible._ Otabek clearly sensed Yuri’s discomfort because he didn’t press the matter any further even though the answer had been more than vague.

They walked back to the safe-house in silence. Yuri was clutching his prize and thankfully there were few people on the streets at this hour to take notice of how silly he looked with that giant pink thing, like an overgrown child. His hood was back on. _That_ was also noticed by Otabek.

“Why do you keep that hood up? You have such a pretty face.”  
“Well, you just answered your question.”  
Otabek grunted. 

“Oh, all right,”- sighed Yuri,-” what the hell. Victor threatens to find me an Alpha if I don’t get mated and bound soon. So yeah, try living with a face like mine, see how much you’ll enjoy it.” Otabek somewhat slowed his pace but didn’t reply. He was walking in firm strides keeping his jaw forward, his hands stuck into the pockets of his motorbike jacket, a silent rubble in his chest. Yuri didn’t feel frightened by the sound of it but then again he didn’t feel that over-protectiveness like before, so that growl probably was what Otabek would just do. Yuri knew he purred in his own sleep, so _fuck yeah_ , they were allowed to make occasional noises.   
“Otabek?”  
“Yeah?”  
“I...kinda...like you,”- Yuri pushed the plushie into his face and blood hit his cheeks like a fountain. _Oh my God, this was so embarrassing!!!!_ Was he just hitting on an Alpha who came to lend them a helping hand? Yuri startled when he felt Otabek put that _very helping hand_ on his hip as he pulled Yuri closer.  
“I think we can work something out, Yuri,”- said Otabek and Yuri could swear he _heard_ how Otabek smiled. He said ‘Yuri’ with such apparent lust that it was silly to even attempt to deny it. A blank of sweet tobacco, strong musk and bergamot wrapped around Yuri again. They walked the rest of the way home silently like that, Otabek’s hand casually yet very distinctively clutching at Yuri’s hip. 

The sleeping safe-house was silent and dark only with the necessary lights to show the strategic elements like stairs or emergency exists, so generally they had to make their way by feeling the walls, at least Yuri did because Otabek didn’t seem to be hindered by the lack of light. Otabek’s room was further away along the corridor. Yuri paused by his room doors and swallowed heavily, his instincts finally unknotting and starting to run like a spring of melting snow in spring. Was Otabek going to…

Otabek _very much wanted to_. Tonight he was living in a nightmare. He smelled a most sweetest Omega in the kitchen of the safe-house he came to take his cover and it nearly knocked him of his feet. It wasn’t helped when minutes later the said Omega physically materialized in the kitchen and from that moment Otabek has been carrying this _actually physical pain of gnawing need._ The whizzing scent of Bulgarian rose, zephyrs and plums, _the plum was simply divine_ , the blue eyes, the long blond hair that he would get a grip of to make those pink sexy lips cry his name… He had to pull himself together not to grab this Omega and start marking him straight away, especially when Yuri brushed against him in the kitchen or when he was licking his fingers in the diner- one could knock Otabek down with a feather then. But at the same time, this Omega was working up his Alpha instincts of protection and possession, he felt it very strongly when Yuri was threatened by the two local Alphas. Now he felt the delightful mix of Bulgarian rose, zephyrs and plums go sour as this Omega was seriously panicking and the last thing Otabek wanted was to send Yuri into a stressed heat right now. 

Otabek pulled Yuri into a strong embrace, pushed down Yuri’s hood and placed his burning lips on Yuri’s hairline. He felt how this Omega squirmed in his grip but he didn’t let go, the stupid plushie was squeezed between them like a cushion. He inhaled still sour scent of Bulgarian rose, zephyrs and plums and rubbed his face against Yuri’s face and neck. Yuri stood in shell-shock for a moment and then the realization hit him- Otabek was putting his scent on him to warn other Alphas that this Omega was claimed. The lack of a bonding mark on the neck didn’t mean anything because many partners preferred to mark each other in less visible places like wrists or things, so it _was the scent_ that mattered. Otabek pulled away when he was sure Yuri was enough drenched in his Alpha scent. He wasn’t going mark Yuri by bite right now, the strongest bonds were made during heats, that’s what Otabek wanted right now but not _right now as this very moment_ because he had to kill someone next week and he wouldn’t be able to if he was in a heat room with Yuri. 

Death before life. That’s how it works. 

“Goodnight, sweetie,”- Otabek whispered hot breath into Yuri’s ear and gently nudged him towards his room.  
“Goodnight, Otabek.”  
“Beka. It’s Beka now.”  
“Good night, Beka,”- and there was the silent thud of a closing door. Otabek stood a long time staring at Yuri’s room’s door fighting between the painful _need_ to pin Yuri down right this moment and the more and more ever-growing _instinct_ of protection. It’s been a while he felt anything similar, his previous Omegas being a distant memory of a long time faded perfume compared to the powerful blast of Yuri’s bouquet of scents. Finally, after what seemed to be a million of years, Otabek regained control of himself. He was a mafia sniper, a hit man, it was ridiculous that such a small _yet so sweet_ Omega would sweep the ground from under his feet. Otabek Altin knew he _had to_ claim this Omega for his own safety now. With this iron-clad determination he went to a room dedicated to him for his stay on the job and crashed into the bed wearing clothes as he was, staring at the ceiling but not actually seeing anything. He wasn’t going to sleep tonight. Sleep? What sleep? 

“Yuri, sweetie, will you not be the death of me?” -said Otabek into the darkness of his room as the note of the plum took hold and refused to fade. Good grief, he was now talking to himself. 

End Part One


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri Plisetsky is an Omega that is unmated, unbound and working for a mafia family in Russia. That is certainly a problem in an Alpha-dominated world. Victor Nikiforov, the head of the mafia family, orders Yuri to find a bonding partner soon or else...Enters a mysterious tall, dark and handsome man with a scent of sweet tobacco, strong musk and bergamot that comes to aid the Nikiforov gang in an operation. Just the first thing Yuri asks from him in not a bounding mark but a pink plush octopus. When it seems Yuri has found his Alpha, things take a different turn and it will take pain, tears and grit to make it work for Yuri and Otabek. 
> 
> Non-Con is in. You have been warned.

Morning found Yuri lying back on his bed and stupidly staring at the ceiling. He didn’t sleep much that night. Events were unfolding really fast, like, really roller coaster fast. He knew he wasn’t ready for an Alpha but Victor’s deadline didn’t leave much room for getting ready. And leaving the gang was out of question-this was mafia, _the fucking mob_ , one left it only feet forward and wrapped up in a white sheet, and that was _on the condition the body was still one piece._ There were steps outside his room with a short pause by his door and a faint waft of sweet tobacco, strong musk and bergamot scribbled its way into his room. Yuri felt there was no way he could deal with it during breakfast with full house staring in sheer morbid scientific curiosity, so he laid in for longer than usual, then took a quick shower, pulled on a pair of leopard tights, a simple white T-shirt, an over-sized dark blue hoodie, laced up a pair of black converses; then he pulled his hair into a pony-tail. He picked up a mascara and a liquid eyeliner but then after a short deliberation put them back. Breakfast time was nearing to its end and he was hungry, so he left the safe abode of his room and schlepped downstairs to the kitchen. There was a mountain of dishes in the kitchen sink that he will have to deal with as part of his errands of the house. There were a few more people in the room, including Otabek. He looked up from his chair as Yuri entered the kitchen and he didn’t look away. 

“Good morning,”- said Yuri to the room in general, avoiding Otabek’s intense gaze and anyway feeling blush creeping into his white cheeks. Yuri’s skin tone was alabaster white with some blue veins showing at close sight, so he easily blushed and that lent it to a good tease, which did not in any way help his complicated ass in this gang.   
“Good morning,”- chimed some Omegas but the Alphas generally ignored him. Otabek just nodded, too. _Not a morning person, are we, Otabek?_ He was still the same man of few words. Yuri helped himself with the buffet breakfast (it was too much guesswork to prepare a cooked breakfast for an unidentified amount of people who might be staying over at any given night, could be five or fifty-five, so a generous cold buffet was laid every morning) but because he was hungry and his plate was overflowing he took the nearest empty chair which just _happened_ to be nearest to Otabek (Otabek’s hand gripping the backrest of the chair). Yuri still couldn’t brace himself to look at Otabek but he felt how Otabek’s questioning eyes were crawling on his face. 

“Hey, Yuri,”- piped up one Omega,- “you want to do laundry or groceries today?”  
The corner of Yuri’s eye caught a millisecond of stoppage in the movement of Otabek’s fork. One of the reasons why Yuri was avoiding being mated and bound was this Alpha domination shit where Alphas got so seriously worried when their Omegas left the zone of their vision _because another Alpha would be of course looking at them._  
“Groceries,”-answered Yuri, taking a sip of his coffee. It would give him the possibility to get out of the house even if it was for a short time. He tensed as he felt Otabek’s knee deliberately nudge against his leg under the table. Yuri scrambled himself up and shrank away quickly (Otabek’s hand holding his chair’s backrest, anyway) and as he was fleeing the kitchen he felt the _sweet_ tobacco go sour. 

Grocery shopping and fresh air helped Yuri clear up his head. Yuri was somewhat reluctant to admit that, actually, he felt affected by Otabek in a good way. He liked the way Otabek’s strong hand felt on his body. He liked the way Otabek smelled. He liked all of Otabek. 

Ha. Maybe if he braved himself enough to look Otabek in the eye and stop treating him like some garbage, things can work out. 

Yuri saw one of Victor’s regular bodyguards lingering outside their safe-house, which meant that the Boss was inside. Yuri dropped two heavy grocery bags on the kitchen floor and decided to get a quick shower before unpacking and sorting out stuff. Yuri startled as he nearly ran into Victor full front, who had been obviously using one of the shared bathrooms near the entrance doors instead of more private facilities on the second floor where his office was, so he caught Yuri off-guard. Yuri instinctively backed away to make passageway for Victor and found himself backing against the corridor wall. But Victor didn’t make a move. _Quite on the contrary._

Victor was nothing but Alpha Ice God. His silver hair was long and thick, pulled into a pony tail. His blue eyes stood against his pale beautiful face and flickered fire on ice and ice on fire. Victor was incredibly tall and muscular. His sense of fashion was for bespoke clothes and brands that were lesser known and low-key, yet everything he wore was outrageously expensive. He could afford it, of course. He never raised his voice but for most people if they met Victor Nikiforov in person was bad news. It was in your best interest if the Boss never noticed you. He was now standing perked up in front of Yuri, holding his index finger against his lips, this was his signature gesture when Victor was working on something… _bad._ At first Yuri didn’t understand what got Victor so interested in him but things somewhat cleared up when Victor leaned close to Yuri’s neck and inhaled a couple of times. Of course. Victor picked up a scent of another Alpha that he didn’t know. Victor had probably never met Otabek before, Yuri figured out, and now a scent of some strange Alpha was lingering on one of his Omegas. Victor’s own scent was _not a very pleasant_ mixture of nutmeg, cedar wood and black pepper. Victor leaned back away from Yuri, put his index finger under Yuri’s chin and lifted his head up, so Yuri can look him in the eye and held it there for a long moment. Yuri was at a loss for words, he knew he had to say something, but words just failed him and there was _this bad glow_ in Victor’s eye. Thankfully, Victor stepped back and silently motioned for Yuri to follow him.

Yuri obediently followed Victor to his office, which was off-limits to anyone if Victor wasn’t in and even if he was in one had to be _directly summoned by the Boss_ to enter the room. Another bodyguard loomed meaningfully outside the office doors. There were two Alphas from the safe-house, a few Betas Victor brought with him, Otabek and Yuuri. Yuuri was comfortably seated on the couch (he was the only person to be allowed sitting in Victor’s presence) and looked up from his mobile phone to flash a genuine smile to Yuri. Even though Victor treated his current passion as an arm-candy, the Japanese man proved to be somewhat sharper than just an average escort and that was probably what kept Victor’s interest for so long. Though, Yuri did have some insider knowledge that Yuuri was Victor’s _favourite_ man but not his _only_ man. Victor paused a second by Otabek before he sat down on the couch and wrapped his hand around Yuuri. Black pepper and bergamot mixed and started doing a very weird dance in the silent room. Victor pointed the index finger of his free hand at Otabek, then directed it to Yuri and raised an elegantly plucked eyebrow, looking sharp at Otabek and placing his finger against his lips in that _don’t fuck with Victor Nikiforov_ manner. Otabek nodded without a hesitation and something of a passing of a long forgotten smile crossed Victor’s lips. 

When territorial claims were sorted out, Yuri waited to be excused from the meeting when they started discussing the next week’s hit but Victor didn’t seem to mind his presence in the room. Yuuri was buried inside his own phone for his own entertainment but Yuuri was Victor’s lover, not his worker, so he was excused, Yuri couldn’t just follow suit, so he just tried to place himself as invisible as he could and pretend he wasn’t there. They were discussing a decoy for their operation. They wanted to remove a certain person from a foreign rivaling Mafia family. But there were no fools and very few idiots when it came to mob games, so their victim will be on the lookout for the setup. The man in question was set to meet up with a few serious people for the business talking in one of St. Petersburg’s hotels. His meeting partners were, of course, by now all Victor’s men but Victor felt if he went easy on this, it would send a wrong message that it’s OK to meddle in Nikiforov’s affairs. 

“I’ll do it,”- said Yuri. He was tired of being ignored so much that he probably lost his sane mind because a lackey would never be involved in a serious operation like this. Everybody stopped talking and surprised faces turned to him, even Yuuri looked up from his phone. Otabek had to pull years of experience to keep his jaw from hitting the floor.   
“There’s no way...”- started one of the Betas, obviously with more knowledge on this particular job.  
“I can wear a dress,”- suggested Yuri, -”it will be too late when anyone notices.”   
“Fuck, Victor,”- gasped Yuuri who was the only surviving person on the planet to say “fuck, Victor” outside the bedroom and survive it,- “this may actually work!”

Planning picked up speed and things started to fall into places. It didn’t seem to rub anyone the wrong way that Yuri would be wearing a dress because it would naturally blend in with his delicate yet slightly masculine physique and long hair. When the majority of the details were sorted out, Victor told Yuri could leave. It took Yuri good five steps towards the doors when he felt the scent of black pepper flutter after him, followed by that sad cinnamon of Yuuri’s who, of course, knew it already. When Yuri was closing the doors, he had to face the room he was leaving and his eyes locked on Victor’s eyes for a very brief moment, Victor’s eyes narrowed slightly. Now, when Yuri has decided on his Alpha and even carried his scent, of course Victor _had to be interested in him as well._

_Well, fuck that._

The next couple of days passed uneventfully. Yuri caught himself feeling short pangs of wistfulness because he didn’t get to see Otabek at all. The sniper was busy with the preparations for the hit and, considering his role was key, he had his hands full right now. Yuri would linger by Otabek’s room while doing housekeeping but the room was locked. Yuri would inhale the lingering scent of sweet tobacco, strong musk and bergamot but the fragrance seemed to be fading. 

The night he was going to test his outfit for the mission, there was a knock on his door. Yuri was standing in the middle of his room wearing nothing but a pair of briefs and a very large T-shirt that went to the middle of his thighs- one of the many of his thrift store finds for sleepwear. He wanted to grab a pair of some sort of pants or leggings for common decency, but the voice on the other side of the doors stopped him in his tracks. 

“Open the doors, sweetie. We need to talk,”- it was Otabek. And, judging by the sharp tobacco, he was done waiting. Yuri obeyed. It was not that this Alpha was commanding him, he was again _politely asking_ first. This was somewhat good to know. Yuri wondered if Otabek would ask his victim to just _could you please die_ nicely too. Otabek stepped into his room and shut the door. He was wearing a non-descriptive sport suit and sneakers, Yuri gathered Otabek had been jogging before. With a curious glance, Otabek looked around the small space that was at Yuri’s disposal and consisted of a small bathroom with a shower, a small wardrobe, a bookshelf unit with the plushie pink octopus on the top of it and his look paused at a bed with a dress laid on it. It was a long black wrap-up dress by none else than Balenciaga, generously financed by none else than Victor Nikiforov at just 3,000 American dollars. Victor killed just like he lived- en vogue. The total outfit for the hit night consisted of a dress, a clutch bag, a pair of long self-adhesive stockings and a garter for a small firearm and a pair of ballet flats. Otabek was trusted with the job of explaining the firearm to Yuri but _honestly_ Yuri thought the sniper could have chosen a better moment for instruction that _pantless_ Yuri. 

“Right,”- said Yuri, trying his best to hide the embarrassment of the moment and turning his back to Otabek, -”I’ll just get the gun..”  
Otabek lurched and locked Yuri in his embrace, pressing Yuri’s back to his chest and burying his face in Yuri’s hair.  
“ _Wanting_ you and not _having_ you is killing me,”- said Otabek. 

Time stopped. When Yuri remembered to breathe, Otabek’s hand was in his briefs, running along the length of his cock. Yuri bit his lips, arched his back and felt how his legs turned into overcooked pasta as he came. There was a definite feeling of wetness on Yuri’s behind where Otabek’s crotch and it was clear that Otabek also came from just by giving Yuri the hand-job.   
“Oh, fuck,”- gasped Yuri as he felt his shaky legs were back to normal function, though not in full mode yet.   
“Is this what you want?”- muttered Otabek into Yuri’s neck that he was nuzzling.  
“No.”

Yuri broke the embrace and turned to face Otabek. After a moment of intimacy he felt more confident in himself, somehow, as if he had just added a few years behind himself. 

“Why not?”- sharp tobacco, edgy musk and acid bergamot of agitated disappointment mixed with his own wilted Bulgarian rose, burnt zephyrs and dried plums.   
“Because nothing good can come out of it. You do this job and you go back to wherever you are from and I stay here with the memories of you and of what we could have had, so sorry not sorry about not wanting to start it in the first place.” Otabek’s eyebrows shot up and Yuri immediately knew he had hit the jackpot- Otabek never considered a possibility of taking Yuri with him when he left.   
“OK, sweetie, we need to discuss this. If we make a bound, of course we will stay together. Here or in Almaty,”- Otabek paused, run his fingers through his hair and a shadow passed his facial muscles, -”I’ll need to talk to Victor, of course…”  
“Fuck Victor.” _And what does it mean ‘if’ we make the bond? Are you not interested in me without a chain attached to my ankle?_

Otabek grinned. This Omega was a handful but no-one could blame Otabek Altin for refusing a good fight. Otabek gathered that bedding this particular Omega would come with some resistance and he enjoyed certain aspects of Yuri’s defiance. The strongest bonds were made when both partners were willing, so Otabek just stepped back _yet again_ to give Yuri some breathing space. Yuri was clearly not against the idea of mating with him as suggested by Yuri’s cum in his hand, so Otabek tapped into the reserves of his professional patience of a sniper who has to wait excruciating hours in the same uncomfortable position just to pull that trigger.   
“I’ll wash my hands,”- said the sniper, -”you put on your outfit. I want to see where you think you can fit that gun.”  
 _Up your ass_ ,- wanted to say Yuri but he bit his tongue. Now this was not the time to piss off his shooting instructor because his own life depended on it. Otabek washed his hands and wiped them into one of Yuri’s towels (he quelled at the rose note), stepped out of the bathroom and...froze. Yuri looked magnificent. An Alpha inside Otabek roared at the top of his lungs at the mere thought that someone else would be touching Yuri, even if it was pure farce and decoy. The long dress wrapped around Yuri’s lathe body nicely covering up some of his muscular areas and draping around some of his rounded areas, the neckline cut was just perfect. The dress was long enough to flow sexily but not too long if Yuri needed to run. Footwear was crucial in case of escape, so Yuri went for black Chanel ballet flats _thank you Victor_ which he could kick off anytime. His lose hair hung around him like a cloud. This was just a test of the wardrobe and Otabek knew that Yuri’s hair would be pulled into a bun to reveal his unmarked neck in case the man they were after was an Alpha. If there was one more reason not to bound right now, this was it- a bound Omega smelled strongly of his Alpha and this decoy would go bust. 

“Where is it?”- asked Otabek and inhaled loudly through his teeth when Yuri lifted up a high slit in the dress to reveal a graceful leg in a stocking with a garter and a small handgun tucked under it. There went Otabek’s professionalism, out of the window from the top floor of a skyscraper, flopping flat on the pavement. ”Mmm...you need to adjust it slightly here,”-Otabek reached out to show what he meant but Yuri grabbed his hand. -”Relax, sweetie, I’m just trying to help. I’m not trying to touch you, I know you are not ready. Trust me on this one, OK?” After an awkward pause, Yuri nodded and let go of Otabek’s hand. Otabek lowered himself in front of Yuri on one knee and adjusted the firearm to a correct position but it took years of his profession experience and probably a greater part of his _whole future_ experience he was now crediting not to succumb to the scent coming from Yuri’s things. He managed to get up and stand on his own two feet because he was so f _ucking good at his job of killing people_ and he had hours of training that he never envisaged being put into this kind of practice. 

“One more thing, sweetie,”- said Otabek, reaching out for Yuri’s neck. -”Don’t be afraid, I’ll keep you safe.”

Hours of preparation time were fucked up in the first minutes of the mission. Because _of course_ things had to go wrong. Here Yuri was dressed up to the nines like an expensive prostitute staring angrily into the mirror inside Victor’s hotel suite. Victor had taken up some rooms in the hotel where the meeting with the rivaling mobster had been planned but shit hit the fan, somebody screwed up, Otabek was completely redundant and clueless waiting on the roof of the building on the other side of the street with his sniper weapon, Yuri was stuck in Victor’s bathroom while Victor was in the room with the man they were hunting aiming a revolver at him. Yuri’s room had a connecting bathroom with Victor’s and the door between them was thankfully unlocked; Yuri had sneaked into Victor’s bathroom to freshen up before starting the job because the bathroom in Yuri’s room appeared to be clogged, so Victor apparently had no clue Yuri was there, then Victor came to this room and when Yuri was about to sneak back into his own room, he heard a gun click. At first he thought it was Victor testing his gun but when the conversation followed and Yuri knew that Victor wasn’t the one holding the flipping gun. 

Yuri’s mind skyrocketed. His first thought was grab his phone and call Otabek for help but as he frantically looked around the bathroom he realized he had left his phone in his bag in the other room. He had idiotically closed the connecting bathroom door as if somebody could see him peeing from the darkness of his room and right now it was not a good moment to make escaping noises. And it was only a question of time before somebody picks up his scent and things gone fucked up the way they were, chances were Victor and his nemesis weren’t the only people in that room. 

Diversion. That was new Yuri’s plan. If only Victor got enough time to get to his gun... _wait...now wait a minute..._ Yuri felt a burning sensation to his own thigh- _for the fuck of it_ he was also carrying a gun! Maybe he can pass it to Victor somehow? He scanned the bathroom again more attentively as he was now the sole creative director of a rescue mission plan. Then, Yuri quickly slipped out of the dress, grabbed a large bathroom towel and wrapped around himself covering the area from mid-thighs to armpits, checked the hair pin in his hair bun, crossed himself three times thrusting his life into the trustworthy hands of Jesus, Mary and Joseph and stepped out of the bathroom into what may or may not that night be the end of Yuri Plisetsky.

“Victor, there you are,”- he chided into the sluttiest voice he could find, -”man, are you always this slow?” He drew the pin out of the bun of his hair letting his blond locks fall down on his his shoulders. -”Oh, you brought a friend this time? Is he gonna watch?” 

The effect of his appearance in the room can only be equaled to a nuclear bomb dropping. The only other two men in the room looked equally shell-shocked. It lasted a few seconds but that was enough for Victor to lift his leg into the air and kick the gun from the other man’s hand. Yuri quickly drew his own firearm from the garter under the towel (the gun was already safety-off, silencer on), threw it to Victor who caught it in the air, aimed and fired. It all lasted six seconds max. The other man stood there for like another three seconds and flopped onto the carpeted floor with a split head. Yuri felt some hot blood splash onto him, slightly hitting him onto his uncovered thigh, towel and naked shoulder. Victor, however, looked completely unaffected by what had just happened. He had amazingly quickly completely recovered from Yuri’s surprise appearance. Victor took out his mobile phone, hit speed-dial and started giving rapid instructions.

“Send a cleaning team. Yuri, go take a shower. The bastard’s dead but I need those who helped him. I want to know who sold me.”

Yuri stepped into Victor’s shower and turned the maximum water the tap allowed. He wanted to get to his room’s bathroom so he could wash the blood and try to contact Otabek, but his legs started failing him midway and he just _fucking_ needed to wash away the blood. Yuri felt nausea hit him really badly and he gagged but there was no vomit, probably just a nervous spasm. It was the first time he saw somebody die in front of him. He palmed around the shower head, his fingers located the in-built shower gel bottle and Yuri squeezed a generous full handful of it. He started rubbing himself with the neutrally-scented allergy-free gel and he fell how tears were making hot trails down his face. He started shivering. _Otabek. He needed Otabek, who could hold him._ He heard the shower door slid open and close as another body joined him. 

“Don’t hurry, Yuri,”- said Victor, Yuri felt a thick cloud of nutmeg, cedar wood and black pepper surround him and he heard a click of a bottle. Unlike the warm protective cloud of Otabek’s scent, this one felt like a cage that was too small for him. Yuri felt that his body didn’t belong to him anymore and when Victor nudged him against the shower wall, he obeyed. Victor pressed his face to Yuri’s neck and inhaled deeply and Yuri freaked out if Victor was gonna bite and bound him. Yuri knew this was where Otabek rubbed against him during their wardrobe trial. The scent of the Alpha was still going strong, there was no way Victor couldn’t feel it but for what it mattered now it looked like Victor was actually enjoying Otabek’s scent on Yuri. 

“You are such a sweetie,”- said Victor gently nibbling into Yuri’s ear. Yuri gritted his teeth and let an inward cry of despair. _Only Otabek was ever allowed call him like this. But would he want to again?_ Yuri gasped as he felt Victor’s cock rubbing against his ass entrance. _Otabek. It was supposed to be Otabek who did this to him._ Victor placed one hand firmly around Yuri’s waist and slid a lubricated finger of his free hand into Yuri. Yuri gasped, tightened and arched his back, slamming hands against the shower wall. 

“You are so tight, sweetie, you need to relax,”- said Victor as he finally slid his erected cock into Yuri’s ass entrance and started to fuck him slowly. And then Yuri felt something snap inside of him with a sound like a passing car hitting a sewage lid. Warmth started trickling up and down his body and, hating himself for it, Yuri arched his back even more and put his hand around to reach for Victor.   
“Mmmm…,”- Victor was appreciative of Yuri’s reaction, -”that’s it, baby. And you can still do it with your Otabek. I don’t mind.” 

When Victor’s secondary car drops Yuri off by the safe-house, it was early hours of the morning. The house was as quiet as a grave and in its dimmed lights mode. However, there was this lone figure looming against the wall near Yuri’s room. It didn’t take him long to recognize the wholesome shape of Otabek, who was holding sentinel for Yuri’s return. Yuri tried to duck past Otabek quickly to get to his room and shut the door because he knew Otabek wouldn’t risk waking up the entire safe-house by storming into his room, but Otabek was quicker. He put his arm against the doors to Yuri’s room to prevent Yuri from going there. 

“Yuri, is everything all right?”- demanded Otabek.   
“I want to get into my room, please.”  
“Yuri…”  
“I said I want to get into my room, please.”  
“You were with Victor when...”  
“Now!”

There was this high pitch in Yuri’s voice that did it for Otabek and he lifted his hand up. Yuri was surely gonna make a scene and Otabek wasn’t sure which premises of this particular property were sound-proof and now was a really bad time to test it. All he wanted was to check if Yuri was all right because the original plan never meant to include Yuri on the killing scene itself and Otabek knew Victor wasn’t a good therapist when it came to trauma counseling. 

“When can we talk?”  
“You said you’ll keep me safe. You didn’t. The safest goddamn place in this world is behind your back but you weren’t there.”  
Otabek wanted to say something back, to react to this, but there was this definite thud of a closing door straight to his face. He wanted to... _oh he wanted to so many things_...but then he leaned against the doors to Yuri’s room and inhaled the air that contained some of Yuri’s smell to try to infer any useful emotion that could explain Yuri’s behaviour. There were regular Yuri’s notes but nutmeg, cedar wood and black pepper clung _extremely_ heavily, too. “ _You said you’ll keep me safe. You didn’t. The safest goddamn place in this world is behind your back but you weren’t there._ ”

Otabek immediately knew.

End Part Two.


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri Plisetsky is an Omega that is unmated, unbound and working for a mafia family in Russia. That is certainly a problem in an Alpha-dominated world. Victor Nikiforov, the head of the mafia family, orders Yuri to find a bonding partner soon or else...When it seems Yuri has found his Alpha, things take a different turn and it will take pain, tears and grit to make it work for Yuri and Otabek. Or will it be Victor, who claims Yuri? Victor again takes sexual advantage of Yuri and Yuri is in no position to say no. However, there’s a plot twist. So, dubious consent is in, actual sex is out. Please don’t read if you are sensitive about anything.

Otabek didn’t leave for Almaty as Yuri had expected him to because _of course_ they had to find out who ruined their mission and _of course_ for some reason it couldn’t be done without one Otabek Altin. After Yuri’s strange and outward rude behaviour, Otabek started to somewhat ignore him. It was painful but Yuri felt it was fairly deserved. How was he ever gonna tell Otabek that he had sex with Victor and some part of him _actually liked it?_ Yuri employed best avoidance strategies known to humanity but the shortfall of any avoidance strategy is that one eventually runs out places to hide. 

Victor’s text didn’t catch Yuri off-guard, either. Based on what happened back at the hotel, Yuri was kind of expecting that and some part of him _was craving it._ Victor texted Yuri that he’d be picked up by a driver tonight and that he should pack an overnight bag. The text didn’t say what Yuri was required for (dust the shelves in the library? water the plants? patch up Yuuri’s socks?) so he couldn’t straightforwardly reject his summons but he had a good idea why Victor was inviting him.

And Victor didn’t disappoint. Yuri was picked up by a driver at the indicated time and half an hour later the car pulled into the carefully maintained driveway in front of Victor’s outskirts mansion. When Yuri was following a member of the household staff along a long corridor befitted with antiques and old paintings, Yuuri stepped out from one of the rooms. Their eyes locked for a brief moment and Yuuri gave Yuri a polite curt nod. Yuuri was wearing a set of lounge-wear, iPods popped in his ears and his mobile phone was bulging from his pants pocket. There was a waft of after-shave and some very _expensive_ shampoo around him, too, which was suggestive of Yuuri retiring for the night soon. The member of staff that had been leading Yuri stopped by the imposing double doors to Victor’s private suite and knocked. He didn’t wait for an answer, opened the doors, stepped aside, motioned for Yuri to come in and then closed the doors behind him. 

The suite stood in stark contrast from bare Victor’s office in their safe-house. It consisted of a large sitting-room furnished with comfortable furniture in warm sand, moss green and brown items of furniture, there was a big bookcase full of collector books, thick curtains draped on French bay windows. One of the doors led to a big bedroom with en-suite bathroom with a spotless wet room instead of a shower. The bedroom sported a king size bed and the room was decorated only in black and white colours. There was also a smaller dining room furnished with mahogany pieces of furniture with antique expensive silverware displayed in cabinets along the walls where Victor would entertain the select few. Needless to say, the whole suit was soundproof, fireproof and had two secret exits in case of emergency. Victor’s dominant scent of nutmeg, cedar wood and black pepper could be easily mistaken for luxurious incense. There was the man himself, casually lounging on a sand-colored couch, his long silver hair hanging loosely on his shoulders, one hand across the coach backrest, in his expensive three-piece, a glass of wine in the other hand, an open bottle and an empty glass on the small glass table in front of the couch. 

“Yuri, welcome,”- greeted Victor. He motioned for Yuri to come closer. - ”I didn’t take my time with you last time, I’m afraid. It doesn’t take long to get rid of a body. I hope we can do better tonight. Take a shower,”- he nodded to the direction of his bedroom, -”there’s a bathrobe for you and come back here.” - He paused, took a sip from his glass, slightly narrowed his eyes and added, -”no underwear”. 

It couldn’t be more clearer, Yuri was here to fuck. He managed to peel himself from the suite doors and crossed the sitting room with Victor intently watching him. There was a big white bathrobe on the bathroom cabinet, a pair of clean towels set atop of the robe and a new set of bathroom products. It was a very expensive line that descented and neutralized pheromones and many Omegas used it for their pre-heats, with mixed results, if they didn’t want their condition to be known. Yuri stepped out of his clothes and turned the shower on. _Let’s get the fuck with it and be done quick._

When Yuri returned to the sitting room and hesitated what to do next, Victor motioned for him to approach. Yuri tucked his hands in the bathrobe’s pockets and barefoot schlepped to where Victor wanted him to be. Which was right there, next to Victor, so his Boss could move his hand from the coach backrest to wrap around Yuri’s shoulders. There was a glass of wine on the small glass table for Yuri to pick up. Yuri was no wine expert but this one tasted sweet and rich. Everything looked so surreal, just a few days ago he met an Alpha who was all over him and to whom Yuri was attracted likewise, then Victor started paying his attention to him out of the blue, then Victor and him in the hotel shower and finally this, in private drinking wine with Victor Nikiforov, his Boss, a fearsome mob leader whose ruthlessness would be legendary if there were any survivors to tell the story. 

“Yuri,”- said Victor gently _but there was a certain edginess in his voice_ moving his from Yuri’s shoulders to cup Yuri’s chin, -”I want to clear up something first. I just want you to know that nothing is your fault. You are here because I want you to be here. You don’t have a choice. You mustn’t blame yourself for it in any case. In fact, I allow you to resist my advances...to a point.” Yuri understood it immediately. Victor wasn’t interested in him before Otabek appeared because there was not challenge for him there but now when another Alpha wanted to claim Yuri, Victor jumped at it with all his vigor simply _because it was fun._ Victor put down his wine glass on the table and looked at Yuri intently until he realized what was expected of him and did the same. Then, Victor slid one of his hands under Yuri’s thigh, took a good grip and pulled Yuri over onto his lap, placed his hands on Yuri’s face and drew Yuri into a kiss. Yuri didn’t know what to do with his hands, so he settled onto gripping the lapels of Victor’s jacket. 

Kissing Victor felt…. _strangely good._ Not that Yuri had much experience to compare with, anyway. Victor must have sensed Yuri’s emotions as Yuri’s zephyr scent was at its all time high and Victor was smiling into the kiss. Finally, they broke for air. 

“That’s it, sweetie,”- said Victor in a hushed voice and with a metal blink in his eye, placing his hands around Yuri’s waist. Here, Yuri lost it and lurched at Victor, pushing him back into the couch backrest angrily.  
“I’m not your sweetie.” _I am Otabek’s sweetie, he’s the only one who can call me sweetie but he probably never will._   
Victor whistled. He was somewhat taken aback and gaped a little but then grinned pleased, he liked it. He had encouraged it, after all. He locked his eyes on Yuri’s, playfully wrapped Yuri’s robe’s belt around his wrist and tugged it, about to unbind it and here Yuri stopped breathing…

There was a knock on the door. Yuri heard Victor bellow something angrily but he couldn’t make what it was, his head was in a cotton cloud of emotions. He felt a nudge from Victor and he came to his senses only when he realized that he was sitting down on Victor’s bed, bedroom doors tightly shut but for one centimeter accidentally left open hence _fuck the sound isolation._ Yuri perked up and listened to a heated conversation in the sitting room. He could smell it too - the scent of sweet tobacco, strong must and bergamot. Victor was talking to Otabek. No, Victor was shouting at Otabek… Victor _who never raised his voice_ was now shouting at Otabek.

Otabek had a name for Victor. They were able to identify the culprit of their failed mission that nearly resulted in Victor’s elimination. Otabek could have called or texted Victor but those were not his instructions. “When you have a name, come straight to me, no matter what time of the day or night it is, no calls or texts, I want to deal with this in private,”- was what Victor had said. The scent of Bulgarian rose, zephyr and plum caught Otabek unexpectedly by Victor’s mansion entrance and Otabek worriedly picked it up in strength _and increasing rosy anxiety_ as he was following a member of Victor’s household staff to Victor’s enclave. The member of household staff knocked on the double doors to Victor’s suite, turned around and walked away without any emotions displayed on his face as if this was some monotonous task he had to do every day and maybe it even was so.

Yuri was here, Otabek realized, and Yuri was worried and a little bit scared. _However,_ Victor was pleasantly agitated as informed pungent nutmeg, citrusy cedar wood and musty black pepper.   
_“You said you’ll keep me safe. You didn’t. The safest goddamn place in this world is behind your back but you weren’t there.”_

“I’m here now, sweetie, just hold on there, I’m coming to get you,”-whispered Otabek as he ignored Victor’s angry voice, telling whoever was at the door _to go and flip themselves,_ and pulled the door open.   
“What the _actual_ fuck...”- roared Victor and Otabek managed to catch a mane of Yuri’s blond hair on the back of a white bathroom robe as he was disappearing behind the door to another room and Otabek’s brain registered the fact that there were two wine glasses on the table. How was this _useful_ information to his brain, Otabek couldn't tell. 

“I’m sorry,”- said Otabek, looking up at Victor, his brown flickering fire clenching with Victor’s blue icebergs, -”but I think I heard someone say ‘enter’.”

Victor stared angrily at Otabek. If Victor had been carrying a gun that moment, Otabek would have been turned into a pulp and wiped out from history. Well, probably. 

“Are you out of your fucking mind, Altin?!”  
“I have the name you asked for, Victor.” 

Victor’s fury was evident but with Otabek _he did say to get in touch anytime._ Victor was still fuming but his rage was slowly quietening, like sunrays squeezing through a thick cloud of rain. He picked up his wine glass and took a long sip. He wouldn’t be where he was if he couldn’t control his temper. 

“O-ta-bek,”- said Victor, finally gaining control of himself. -”You bring me good news?”  
“Yes. I know the bastard who sold you.”  
“Mhm. It’s good to know the name I will be hammering on his grave marker. Yuri, you can come out.”

_As if he had a choice._ Yuri peeled the doors open but he didn’t dare step any more forward, so he just leaned against the door frame for support. His cheeks were on fire. He could not brace himself to look at Otabek because Otabek might be looking at him and thinking what a whore Yuri was. Or Victor, for that matter. Instead, he focused on his toes and the way they dug into the soft carpet. 

“I’m afraid tonight’s been canceled, Yuri. My driver will get you home. That’s all.”

The next week is hell. Yuri’s household responsibilities and shifts demand him to be out of the safety of his room practically all the time and nobody seems to be able to change shifts with him, so he ends up seeing _a lot of_ Otabek. They don’t speak. What is it to speak about? Otabek found him in Victor’s bed. Well, nearly. Otabek isn’t daft to suppose Yuri and Victor were gonna play chess, brush each other’s hair and gab about the last episode of X Factor. _For the fuck’s sake,_ Otabek held the car doors open for Yuri when he was leaving Victor’s house because while Yuri sorted himself out in Victor’s bedroom, the two Alphas exchanged enough information for that moment to proceed with business affairs and Otabek left Victor’s room together with Yuri. Yuri dreaded the thought they would have to share the car but then he saw a motorbike parked nearby. When Otabek shut the car doors after him, Yuri burst into tears. The driver just drove on unaffectedly -this wasn’t the first crying pretty face leaving Victor Nikiforov’s mansion and this was surely not the last. 

And so, they don’t speak. But Yuri notices that Otabek watches. Whenever Yuri is in Otabek’s zone of vision, Otabek keeps on doing what he’s been doing but his eyes never leave Yuri. Otabek watches as if Yuri is going to melt away and then Yuri be no more. Does this mean that Otabek still wants him? This is the thought Yuri cries himself to sleep every night. When Yuri finds Otabek’s tobacco, musk and bergamot scented bed pillow case in the dirty laundry, he wraps it up, secretly carries to his room and that’s _precisely_ where he cries himself to sleep. He does give Otabek a clean set of bed linen, of course. 

Things were not looking good. It looked like that the mysterious disappearance of the rival mobster hadn’t gone unnoticed and the retaliation followed. Two of Victor’s warehouses were set on fire. His strip-clubs suddenly drained of their cocaine chain. Two of his trusted people turned up in the Neva but it was difficult to believe in their drowning because of bullet wounds in their heads. The whole affair seemed to be a frying vendetta against Victor Nikiforov. But Victor’s darkest hour was to be over soon because the son of the bitch who sold him in the first place was to be ambushed, questioned and wiped out from the face of Earth. Yuri had his part in this mission, too – he was once again used as a decoy. Yuri’s task was simple. Their victim was located taking cover in one of the derelict basements of houses in construction progress in the outskirts of the city. The construction was halted due to embezzlement claims and courts that in _matushka_ Russia dragged on for decades, as a result many incomplete structures fell into ruin and despair. Just like Yuri was now, _all ruin and all disrepair._ Yuri would pretend to be this silly clueless Omega who was looking for something valuable to steal and while the suspect would be trying to figure out if Yuri was an actual threat or not, Victor’s people led by Otabek would get him. A piece of cake, ladies and gentlemen. He would be even wearing a bullet-proof vest this time, based on the previous experience. 

But karma is a bitch. 

There was no-one in the target location when they got there. Victor sent his best pack for this job, they searched the house top to bottom but their victim was just not there. They all were standing in the basement, the last searched place, looking at each other exasperatedly, feeling angry and wasted _and not eager to break the news to Victor._ The fucker had escaped, after all. Finally, Otabek picked up his phone and speed-dialed Victor’s number.

“Yeah?”- Victor picked up on the second ring.- ”My people already told me the bastard’s not there.” Back-up team, obviously. Victor was taking extra precautions this time.   
“True. But the other bastard’s still here. The one who set your warehouses on fire, cut your cocaine supply and butchered two of your best men.”  
“Are you sure? Can you smell him or something?”  
“Kinda.”  
“ _Kinda?_ Altin, you need to be more informative. Do you know his name?”  
“Yes. His name is Otabek Altin.”- Otabek pressed ‘end call’ and _massively commanded_ for everyone in the basement to “Stay down.”

_“Stay down.”_ Yuri pressed to the floor with all the might his body could muster at that moment. The Alpha command could not be clearer. The corner of his eye caught other members of Victor’s gang in similar positions on the ground, including the Alphas. Panic set in, a sudden pain in the chest hindered his breathing and Yuri felt his vision go blank. More voices. More running steps. Noise. Light. A gunshot. 

“The rest can go when they find their legs, this one stays,”- said a familiar voice and Yuri felt a finger tip under his chin, tilting his head up. A scent of bergamot was the strongest in the mix on his face, the other two being sweet tobacco and strong musk. Otabek. _Otabek._ This was Otabek. Yuri’s vision cleared and Otabek’s warm beautiful face materialized before him.   
“Yes, Boss.”  
“Beka?”- whimpered Yuri. His limbs still didn’t belong to him but he felt painful tinges of blood circulation resuming. _Yes, Boss? Otabek was the Boss?_   
“I’m sorry, sweetie, I commanded too strongly but it was inevitable,”- said Otabek as he pulled Yuri into his embrace and lifted up from the floor in his arms. -”Yuri, are you OK?” Otabek saw the mess Yuri was and his sweet tobacco note went on the chopping block. Yuri was not OK. Stress triggered his heat too early. 

Yuri was curled up on the futon in a make-shift heat room in Otabek’s safe-house. He had no idea where he was, all he knew and all that mattered was that he was safe. There was no more Victor. His muscles were starting to ache and he was running fever. Otabek was sitting right next to Yuri, opening a bottle of water for him.   
“I need to go and talk to Victor. Will you be all right?”- asked Otabek. Yuri nodded and gulped water in big sips.  
“Beka?”  
“Yes?”  
“Victor and I...”- Yuri’s voice trailed away.   
“Victor and you what?”  
“We fucked and it was good,”- managed Yuri and squeezed the water bottle. There, finally.-”Do you hate me now?”  
“Yuri,”- Otabek took the water bottle away from Yuri, corked it up, set it on the floor next to the futon, and then took Yuri’s hands into his own.- ”You hard what the doctor said. Your suppressants messed up your heat cycle and you had a prolonged subliminal preheat period. It’s natural to crave an Alpha in a condition like this. And Victor surely manipulated you, there’s no doubt about that. That bastard.” Otabek got up to leave but then turned to look at Yuri.- “Do you need anything?”  
“Yeah. Leave me something that smells like you.”   
“Do you mean you want me to be your heat partner?”  
“Yes. And we can mate and bond, too. If you are not appalled at the idea that another Alpha’s dick grilled my ass.”  
“Yuri,”- there was a big honest smile in Otabek’s words, he chose to ignore Yuri’s rudeness and chalked it up to his heat symptoms,- “there’s nothing more in this world that I want.” 

Not quite, though. Another thing Otabek wanted more than anything was to sort out things with Victor. Their meeting was set up in a neutral location, a terrace of a public cafe near a famous museum. Victor was there precisely on time. His car pulled by punctually the minute the meeting was due and the Boss stepped out from the backseat. He was wearing an elegant three-piece suit, a light camel coat, a checked beige scarf, leather gloves and black slick sunglasses, his long silver hair was collected in a neat plaid. Two looming body guards took positions behind him as he gracefully lowered himself on a seat in front of Otabek. The waitress wanted to come for service but then she _somehow felt an urgent desire spiced with black pepper not to._

“I didn’t mean to go after you when that man in the hotel was dead and done. He was a turncoat, he was gonna cash in on valuable information he had collected from us, get plastic surgery in Zurich and move to sunny Trinidad. His audacity felt personal, so I decided to thank him personally for his service to my family. But I didn’t expect that mission to be sabotaged. That wasn’t my plan. But I kept my word- the man who sabotaged your mission and attempted at your life is no longer walking this Valley of Tears.”  
“So why did _you_ attack me?”  
“You took something that belongs to me.”

Even though Victor hadn’t removed his sunglasses and his face muscles stayed motionless, Otabek could feel his confusion. But Victor was the Boss not for nothing. He chuckled.

“Yuri?”  
“He was mine. I marked him with my scent. You knew he was taken.”   
“He was _reserved_ at best. You didn’t mark him or bound with him.”  
“You opened that door, Victor.” 

Victor didn’t contradict that. He flickered his gloved fingers in the process of thinking. He did open that door, there was no question about it.

“I want to make a deal,”- said Otabek. He achieved what he wanted and now all he wanted was to retreat home safely. He had hurt Victor badly and Victor was still the head of the family with enough means to plunge the two families into a war. Otabek didn’t want a mafia war. Otabek wanted to leave Russia safely and now he had to worry about Yuri, too, but his own team in St. Petersburg was overpowered in number that Victor could summon- Otabek he had only brought a handful of trusted people with him this time to stay low key. Otabek Altin, the Boss of a Kazakh mob family, planned to kill a traitor and quickly go back home, falling in love wasn’t part of the original plan. Otabek could fight his way out of Russia with the mere power of his own teeth and elbows if he had to, but if Yuri entered full heat...Nobody _ever_ moved an Omega in heat.   
“You let my men go relatively unharmed,”- said Victor, -”that’s why I’m still listening. But you are treading on a very thin ice here.”  
“I want to leave with my men and Yuri. That’s all. We leave. You let us leave.”  
“You have two hours before I let my hounds on your scent.”  
“I need more time. Yuri...He’s in heat.”  
“I see,”- there was a quick shiver in Victor’s face and a metallic cling to his voice. -”Then just leave him. He’s a good kid. I’ll take care of him. I don’t intend to harm him in any way.”   
“I won’t leave him.”

Victor leaned back into his seat and placed his index finger against his lips, like he would usually do for _enter bad Victor mode_ . Otabek felt his own shoulders and back muscles tense. This time, Victor had the upper hand and they both knew it.

“I will owe you a favour,”- muttered Otabek. His voice cracked.   
“What was that?”  
“I will owe you a favour,”- repeated Otabek. He hated himself for throwing himself at Victor’s mercy but he had to do it for Yuri. There was no way he could transport Yuri in his current condition out of Russia in two hours and he didn’t want to leave Yuri behind even if he believed that Victor wouldn’t hurt Yuri. If Victor said he wouldn’t hurt Yuri, of course, Victor’s word was solid steel. Victor’s gloved index finger moved onto his lower lip and he bit into his glove material. This seemed to be something of a gesture but it didn’t seem intimidating. Victor’s scent of nutmeg, cedar wood and black pepper was somewhat edged but nothing to set the radars off. Otabek for a second even wondered if Victor _even cared._ Victor suddenly got up. 

“You have twenty-four hours.” 

Otabek heard the doors of Victor’s car shut close and the car drive away. Otabek stared at his hands that he had been clenching under the table all this time. His knuckles were white and there were small bruises where his nails had to meet his skin. He did it. He got them out. He will owe Victor Nikiforov a favour but _they were out._

After a good dose of painkillers and other heat appropriate medication, Yuri was breathing heavily in his sleep clutching Otabek’s sweat suit when Otabek returned. Everything was set to go, they had a chartered jet waiting for them in a private airport to take them to Almaty where a proper heat room was already laid for them. Moving an Omega in heat was a risky health-hazard but it had to be done. Otabek knelt down to futon and wrapped a blanket around Yuri. When he picked his Omega up, Yuri woke up. There was a weak smile on his lips.  
“Beka. You are back.”  
“Yes, Yuri.”  
“Yura.”  
“Mm?”  
“Yura, not Yuri. You are my Beka. I am your Yura. It rhymes.”  
“Ahhh...Okay. Yura.”  
“Where are you taking me?”  
“Home. Please try to go to sleep. Can I take that sweat suit off you for now?”  
“You wanna me get up now and beat your ass, Altin?”  
“I think we can work something out, Yura,”- said Otabek, placing a gentle kiss on his Omega’s cheek. That seemed to do the trick and Yuri drowsed back to sleep. 

In St. Petersburg, in his magnificent suite Victor Nikiforov was taking his last drink before retiring for the night. His Japanese lover was already peacefully dozing off in his king size bed but truth be said Victor’s lovers got very little sleep _for obvious reasons._ Victor put down his empty glass on the small table. He stretched himself a bit, feeling his muscles tense. Yeah, no love lost. Otabek Altin owed him a favor. And Victor Nikiforov will surely ask him for it. 

Victor kept his word. The trip to the airport was uneventful but Otabek breathed in relief only when they took off and left St. Petersburg’s lights behind. Yuri was still sleeping on a spread set of airplane seats wrapped up in a cocoon of a blanket stuffed with Otabek’s clothes. At Yuri’s feet, where he could see it as soon as he opened his eyes upon waking up, sat a pink plushie octopus with nine legs. 

The End


	4. Epilogue with a Cliffhanger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Beka, did I really do all those embarrassing things to you?”- asks Yuri.  
> “Yeap,”- grins Otabek.  
> “Oh my God,”- growls Yuri as he buries his head under the pillow,- “I will never ever in a million years be able to look you in the eye and not blush.”  
> “You look cute when you are blushing,”- Otabek is all about emotional support,- “sexy as hell, actually.”  
> Yuri looks up from under the pillow and cocks his eyebrow playfully.  
> “Read for round forty-five, Altin?”

Epilogue.

By the Grace of God and popular demand, here cometh the epilogue. Thank you for reading.

***

Almaty at night is simply breathtaking. The modern architecture is magnificently illuminated to take one’s breath away. The best panorama vantage spot is, unfortunately, unavailable to the general public because it is the balcony of Otabek’s penthouse. The Kazakh is standing right there watching the splendid skyline stretching before him but not actually seeing a thing. He is wearing only his bathrobe and his hair can be mistaken for an eagle’s nest. His knees are trembling and Otabek Altin, the Boss of a Kazakh mob family, is seriously considering if he needs knee replacements. It’s Yuri’s fourth day of heat and his nest sheets are literally dripping with the collaboration of their cum. 

The first two days are a nightmare because Yuri is running a fever and he is also suffering from bone-breaking pain, this situation partially influenced by him being moved from one nest to another when he was in already in heat. Yuri is suspiciously immune to any painkillers the doctor gives him and his condition can be alleviated with, bluntly speaking, Otabek’s cock inside him. Not that Otabek has any willpower to protest that kind of medical treatment. They keep mating and Yuri’s heat is getting better and easier, now Yuri is peacefully purring in his sleep and Otabek is debating between knee replacements and a pair of crutches. He returns inside just in time when Yuri stirs from his sleep and wakes up from the gust of fresh air. Yuri is a very light sleeper and that’s a sign of guilty conscience because a man who’s got nothing to regret usually sleeps like a stone, just like Otabek. Otabek joins Yuri in the nest on their bed in a special heat room in Otabek’s penthouse. 

“Beka, did I really do all those embarrassing things to you?”- asks Yuri.  
“Yeap,”- grins Otabek.  
“Oh my God,”- growls Yuri as he buries his head under the pillow,- “I will never ever in a million years be able to look you in the eye and not blush.”  
“You look cute when you are blushing,”- Otabek is all about emotional support,- “sexy as hell, actually.”  
Yuri looks up from under the pillow and cocks his eyebrow playfully.  
“Read for round forty-five, Altin?”  
Before Otabek can hit Amazon and order crutches with same day _same hour_ delivery, there’s a Skype call to Otabek’s laptop that’s just sitting there somewhere in the room because Yuri likes his music selection. Otabek waits for the call to stop because he’s got an Omega in his bed (priorities, right?) but whoever is on the other end of the line is seriously intended to ruin Otabek’s sexual life. Otabek sighs, pats Yuri on the head in a reassuring ‘don’t-go-anywhere-I’ll-be-right-back’ manner and sits in front of his laptop to see who’s calling. He puts his earphones on to mute the speakers, blacks his camera (he knows he looks like a _fucking_ hot mess) and clicks to connect. Another black screen seems to be calling him but the voice in his ears is unforgettable.

“Did I interrupt anything?”- innocently asks Victor Nikiforov and chuckles. Otabek quickly casts a worried look at the camera (nope, still blacked out) in fear that Victor might have somehow been online all this time and watching him and Yuri go through Kamasutra in a regular alphabetical order and then backwards alphabetical order.  
“Yes,”- honestly replies Otabek.  
“What a shame,”- sighs Victor who’s probably the most shameless man Otabek has ever met, -”I am calling about that little favour you owe me.”  
Otabek grits his teeth. Yuri’s nest is within hearing distance and the least thing Otabek wants to do is discuss mob affairs when his Omega is in heat and stresses out even when he can’t wrap his trembling fingers around his toothbrush.  
“Wait a minute, I’ll get us some privacy,”- says Otabek as picks up his laptop and carries it into his office. He mouths ‘sorry’ to Yuri as he goes and Yuri just waves him away dismissively. Yuri is lying on his stomach with his sore ass exposed and he is clutching his pink plushie octopus; Otabek knows this image is going to live rent-free in his mind until the second coming of Christ (and, mind you, Otabek _is_ Muslim). Otabek sets his laptop on his office desk and takes his office chair. -”What do you want me to do?”

Otabek is so grateful to himself that he had moved his laptop because the favour he has return to Victor is…  
“You want me what?”- Otabek leans into his laptop in disbelief as if Victor could poke his head through Skype and whisper his request directly into Otabek’s ear.  
“I want you to fuck Yuri in front of my camera. I want to see his face up close and his ass as well so I suppose your office desk will do…”

_Are you fucking kidding me, Nikiforov?_

...”and I want it to be rough. How does this Friday night sound? I’ll order some wine. You like red?”

Otabek’s heart is racing. Normally, favours are related to mob business and not online porn (would Victor be recording? Honestly, Otabek _would_ be recording if anyone fucked an Omega even half as attractive as Yuri) but there’s no manual on mob favours and what’s in or what’s out. When Otabek made his offer to Victor, such a piece of gore never not for a minute came to his mind. 

Right. How quickly a hired assassin can get to St. Petersburg? Otabek knows Seung Gill Lee is in the area and he wants to set an appointment for a job but then he remembers his phone is left behind in the heat room. 

_Excuse me me a moment, Victor Nikiforov, the Boss of Russian mob family, I need to take a break, find my phone and hire somebody to kill you._

“Altin, I’m happy with your reaction. You are actually considering my favour…”

_Victor Nikiforov, may you rest in peace. You are like a tampon-it’s good when it’s in but it’s bad when it’s full._

...”and that just shows you are a man of your word….”

_Erm...not exactly?_

...”but you seriously need to develop some sense of humour. I’m not calling you to ask for some online porn. I need a different kind of favour…”

_Victor Nikiforov will never know how close Queen of Bones was breathing into his neck._

“JJ Leroy is trespassing in my territory in Japan. I want you to take care of it. I don’t care how you are gonna do it, just do it. We can discuss the details when you get to St. Petersburg. How quickly can your Omega be in a position to travel?”

_OK, maybe an assassin is still a working idea._

The problem is, Otabek hasn’t formed a bond with Yuri yet. Yuri said he wanted to mate, mark and bond but he was in his early heat days and his judgment may have been clouded. There’s no doubt that Yuri is attracted to Otabek just as much as Otabek is attracted to Yuri and their first heat is amazing (Victor’s participation in the process being an exception from the amazing part) but Otabek wants Yuri to make this important decision when his mind is sober. There’s an objective reason for that- bonds formed in distress or under dubious consent dissolve withing seventy-two hours and Otabek knows from Yuri’s medical records that his next heat wouldn’t come until six months later. Obviously Otabek cannot answer Victor’s expectant question with a six month’s frame. But without a bond, even though mated and marked, Yuri would still be, as Victor had told Otabek during their last meeting, _reserved_ at best. The situation is rolling backwards to where it all started.

“Altin, are you there? The sooner we agree on this, the sooner you can go back to...erm… _saving the trees_. How quickly can you come to St. Petersburg?”  
“Yuri needs at least a week from now. His heat is really messed up.”-Otabek gives an honest answer and the pain of betrayal has never been greater.  
“A week,”- repeats Victor and Otabek thinks he can see how the black square on his Skype is furrowing his brows in thought,-”yeah, I can work with that. Let me know your flight details.” Victor hangs up. 

When Otabek returns to Yuri’s heat room, he has no face. Victor’s black square on Skype has burnt Otabek’s face off. Entering the nest is like taking a hot bubble bath of Yuri’s scents and Otabek buries his face in Yuri’s hair to hide his guilt. However, he has underestimated how sensitive Yuri is in his heat. Yuri quickly wiggles himself from Otabek’s embrace and sets himself some distance apart, clutching his pink plush octopus as a protective shield between them.

“Otabek, where’s your scent? Why is it gone?”

End of Epilogue. 

Possibly, a work in progress because honestly it doesn’t look like an epilogue. The editorial team extends their regrets for this literary sabotage.


End file.
